S&M
by Ink-About-It
Summary: "Of course I know what S&M is, Maur. I'm Italian!"


**Disclaimer** **:** Rizzoli & Isles is Tess Gerittsen's baby, adopted by Janet Tamaro and is currently in a serious relationship with Turner Network Television. The English language is pretty much public domain though. I hope.

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**S&M**

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Maura Isles is what they call a continental kind of woman. I'm sure you've seen her in action. If it's out there, she's either seen it, done it, or knows about it in great detail. Maura says things that make you do a spit-take. She does things that make you do a double-take. As her girlfriend, it's safe to say I've seen her in all her geeky and gorgeous glory, so I should be used to it by now, right? But she never ceases to amaze me.

So when I say she's been acting strange, you best believe that the woman has been acting strang_er_ than usual.

We had just wrapped up another case; big-shot drug dealer was murdered to death, so none of us are too cut up about it. In fact, Maura and I are having some one-on-one time for once in a while.

We're sitting side-by-side in a booth at the Dirty Robber and I lightly nudge her shoulder to get her attention. The bar's no louder than usual, but I lean in close, "Maur?" Not getting her attention, I try again, "Babe?"

"Hm-huh?" she replies as if she was a million miles away.

I twist around to face her more fully. "What's up?"

"I beg your pardon?" she swallows dryly and for the first time I notice the flushed skin on her chest.

"You've been spaced out for the past five minutes. What's going on in there?" I say, pointing to her temple with a smirk. Is she really having a sexy daydream right now?

She sighs in that way that tells me she's not gonna bother trying to lie or skirt around the truth like she does sometimes. This must be serious.

"I've been thinking-"

"I kinda figured, since the lights were flickering," I can't help but joke.

"…about our sex life."

The waitress who had been approaching our table subtly changes direction upon hearing the tail-end of that sentence.

"You're not thinking about doing it in the bar's bathroom are you?" I ask with a quirked eyebrow before lowering my voice, "Cause I won't say no."

She chuckles and I wonder if she thinks I'm joking. I'm not.

"Jane, are you familiar with S&M?"

My brow furrows in confusion. S and M? Who the Hell are... Oh. **S** & **M**.

"Of course I know what that is, Maur. I'm Italian," I answer feeling a little affronted. Maybe I'm not exactly the poster child for all things Sicilian, but c'mon.

Maura even has the nerve to look surprised. "Oh. Is it a common practice among Italians?"

"Quit playing, Maur. We practically invented it," I say cockily. And rightfully so.

"Really?" Maura clarifies.

"Yes, really." Is this her idea of sarcasm? Because it's not funny. Or cute. Well, maybe a little cute.

Maura quirks an eyebrow, _not knowing whether Jane is being sarcastic or sincere, but the enthusiasm is certainly appreciated, so instead of going off on a tangent about how S&M was "practically invented" by Marquis de Sade who happens to be French, not Italian_, she murmurs, "I did not know _that_."

Now it's my turn to clarify. "Really?" Those aren't words you hear often come out of her mouth. Save the date.

"Do you see hives?" she answers.

"Point taken. But now, Maura, what's that gotta do with us, and why's it got you so hot and bothered?" I ask, genuinely more confused than I've ever been. Do I really want to hear the answer to this?

"Well. I was hoping you wouldn't be opposed to trying it out to spice up our bedroom a little." She shimmies her shoulders in that way she does when she's excited about something. "Not that what we do normally isn't thoroughly satisfying and mind-numbingly amazing, but..."

"The bedroom? You sure?"

"As opposed to?"

"The kitchen. The living room even?"

"I certainly like the way you think, but Angela…"

"Enough said." I cut her off. "I sure as hell don't want a Valentine's Day repeat, that's for sure. Besides, she may be the expert, but I know a thing or two."

"She is? You do? How do I not know any of this?"

"I have no idea." I shake my head.

"Wow. Anyhow, I know you're usually more comfortable in a more dominant, active role, but I was hoping-"

I cut her off again. "Hey, it's your fantasy. You do whatever you want. I mean, I may have the bigger appetite," Maura chuckles, "but if it'll make you happy, I don't mind just laying there while you... You're not gonna bite me, are you?"

Maura leans into my personal space and stops mere inches from my lips, "Not unless you want me to."

I close the gap and she moans when I gently suck and then bite on her bottom lip. She pulls back and we stare into each other's eyes.

A devious smile graces Maura's lips as she runs a hand slowly down my chest, "So, what were you saying about the bar's restroom?"

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The following morning, Maura gives me that look that tells me 'tonight is the night'. It both excites and terrifies me that we're gonna be trying out something strange and new, but there are very few things I wouldn't do for that woman. I love her more than coffee, the Red Sox and being a detective all wrapped in one. Multiplied by infinity. Carry the 2, but that's still a lot.

Anyway, after we hang out for half the day, I go over to my Ma's guest house and threaten her with never giving her grandkids so she won't walk in on Maura and I tonight, but then I turn around and ask for her help.

By the time Maura gets back from her little impromptu shopping trip, I am so ready. And clearly, so is she.

I hear her high-heeled foot steps as she comes upstairs and I think I hear her coat drop on the way. The anticipation is killing me and I don't know if I'm going to last the night just lying there. I close my eyes. The footsteps get louder and louder. Then they stop. I hear a gasp. I open my eyes.

Maura stands there in the sexiest leather contraption I've ever seen. The only things that betray her dominatrix façade are her wide eyes and the grin on her face at the sight of me on the bed posing like one of those girls that you eat off of at some sushi restaurants, except I'm covered in messy, saucy pasta.

"Jane, what is all this?" she asks, bewildered and amused. _So_ not the reaction I was going for, but hey.

"Okay, so clearly, I have no idea what is going on."

"Oh my goodness, you thought-"

"Yeah-yeah, I thought S&M meant spaghetti and meatballs."

I look at her. She stares back at me. Then we both burst out into laughter.

I carefully get out of bed and she follows me into the shower. We'd clean that mess up later. But that night we have some good, old-fashioned **J&M** love-making, and it's clear that no extra spice could ever come close to the inferno of passion we have for each other.

But Maura's leather outfit definitely stays.

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**A/N:** It was funnier in my head. Thanks for reading, y'all!


End file.
